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Updated: May 15, 2025
The hopes and possibilities of the immediate future are the things that interest me. I shall read several chapters of Regeneration not merely one on my tour." "On your tour, yes. But for Mrs. Whyland substitute something else. There was a story you wrote at the farm the one about the girl and her step-mother " "H'm, yes," said Abner, with less enthusiasm than he usually showed for his own work.
Oh, how do?" she said airily to Abner, who came up just then. Having perceived Medora in her remote corner, he had finally summoned enough resolution to make his first movement of the evening: leaving Edith Whyland in the company of Dr. Gowdy, he had succeeded in crossing the intervening leagues alone and unaided.
Clytie shrugged her shoulders. "I have other interests now. Besides, I felt that my efforts on behalf of the Poor were more or less misunderstood and unappreciated." She glanced down the table toward Abner. Whyland glanced in the same direction and shrugged his shoulders too. "I understand.
Abner, forgetful of the presence of Edith Whyland, made indignant moan to himself over the perverse fate that had led him on toward friendliness with a man whose principles and whose public influence he could not approve. There was a sudden stir about the distant doorway. Abner heard the clapping of hands and a few hearty, jubilant yaps frankly emitted by young barytone voices.
Thurber met me pleasantly, and said a few words about our business that told me he knew something about us, and professed to be very much pleased at my call. Then he sent for Mr. Whyland and insisted upon my allowing him to show me about the store. Whyland had but lately returned from his European trip, and was just aching all over to sell goods. You know how that is, don't you?
"They can take dinner with Murdock and his wife for once in their lives." "I don't know whether I can be said to have called regularly on Mrs. Giles " "Is Christmas-day a time for such sophistications? And do you think that plain, simple people, like the Gileses " Mrs. Whyland allowed herself to be persuaded as she had designed from the start.
"Who is he?" wondered Abner. "What can he be connected with? Anyway, he's a fine, solid fellow the kind Whyland might come to be with a little trying." Stephen Giles passed by, guiding the billowy undulations of Eudoxia Pence. Eudoxia had a buoyancy that more than counteracted her bulk, and she wafted about, a substantial vision in lemon-coloured silk, for all to see.
"It's a complicated question, but we shall straighten it out one way or another." Abner stared at him sternly. The question was not complicated, but it was vital too vital for smiles. "There is only one way," he said: "our way." "Our way?" asked Whyland, still smiling. "The Readjusted Tax," pronounced Abner, with a gesture toward two or three of his supporters at his elbow.
Whyland. Here a letter was placed before him by a clerk, and after a glance at it an answer was dictated to the stenographer, who sat in a corner nearby. Long before it was my turn to bother him I felt so cheap that I would have sneaked off, but I was afraid some of the boys would take me by the collar and drag me back. Mr.
"Ah, yes," said Whyland quickly, recognising the faces. "If the idea could only be applied!" "It can be," said Abner severely. "It must be." "Yes, it is a very complicated question," the other repeated. "I have read your stories," he went on immediately. "Two or three of them impressed me very much. I hope we shall become better acquainted." "Thank you," said Abner stiffly.
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